


Rain

by angel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-03
Updated: 2005-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel/pseuds/angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean visits Mary's grave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at Gumboot Mafia on 12/3/05. I'm bringing back the oldies.

Dean leaned back on his heels and sighed deeply. He didn't know why he was here or what he was supposed to do now. This was his first visit since a chilly November day in 1983 that was forever imprinted in his memory. It was the first time he'd seen his father cry. John had been holding little Dean's hand and Dean could still feel the crushing grip his father had used when the coffin was lowered into the ground. There was no body buried beneath the stone on which his mother's name was etched. There had been no body to bury; the fire had burned too hot and too consuming. Yet, there had been a service and the burial of an empty box. But it hadn't been empty. Not really. It was full of his family's normalcy and their happiness and their sanity. Nothing after that night had been the same. Dean barely remembered what life was like before that, but he found himself longing for it sometimes--and wondering about it.

He wondered what would life would have been like if his mother hadn't died. Would he have gone to college? Would he have had friends? Would he have played football like he'd wanted to when he was ten? Would he have found a girl like Sammy had and fallen in love? Would he be afraid that loving someone would spell their death? There were so many what-ifs that they overwhelmed him and he fell back on the cool, damp grass.

"Why?" he whispered as tears gathered in his eyes, blurring the short, but true epitaph on the cold stone--Beloved wife and mother. "Why did you have to die?"

There was no answer forthcoming from the whispering wind or the rustling leaves. Dean choked back a sob and furiously wiped moisture from his eyes. He would not show this weakness. He couldn't. It was too dangerous.

"I fucking hated you for dying," Dean muttered. "I needed you. Sammy needed you. Hell, Dad even needed you. But you weren't there!" His sudden irrational anger frightened even himself. He fought to quell it. Anger was just as dangerous as weakness.

He bit his lower lip so hard that he tasted blood and then he was in control again. He understood pain. Pain and loneliness.

"I hated Sam for a while too," Dean conceded quietly to the grass that he found himself staring at. "For leaving me, for leaving Dad. For you. You sacrificed yourself for him, to save him from...It. I hated you too for not realizing how hard it would be on us without you." He finished silently, with both guilt and relief for admitting it to himself, 'I couldn't live without Sammy. But, somehow, we found a way to live without you.' He took a deep breath and whispered, "I hate myself for that."

The wind picked up, buffeting his hair and jacket. Rain started to fall--slowly at first, but rapidly turning into a downpour. Dean didn't run for the cover of his Impala Instead, he raised his face to the rain and smirked up at the sky. His mother was punishing him for his harsh words, while simultaneously making it okay for him to cry. The rain would conceal the evidence of his weakness. But he no longer felt like crying.

"I love you too," he said, opening his arms to the sky.

~Finis


End file.
